“You have no idea what will come if you make an enemy of me, so I suggest—” Alba burst out laughing again. It took him a moment to gather his bearings back, shaking his head. “An enemy of you! The likes of you! Please—I’ve met arctic seals more frightening than you. Erk—” he wheezed when a hand found his throat, pressing down, but the smile never left his face. “This—doesn’t frighten me—either. You ever been—mast-headed? That’s how I—broke my hip in the—first place. What about salted—after a floggin’?”
